


This Is How We Heal

by OddsAndMonsters



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Artist Draco, Domestic Fluff, Draco deserves good and so does HArry, Draco my gentle son, Fluff, M/M, Will be updating, not much dialogue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5026249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddsAndMonsters/pseuds/OddsAndMonsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco was told not feel, but he loves too strong and too much to let family institutions make him nothing. A story about how Draco healed during 8th year, his obsession with Harry Potter and how he became an esteemed artist of the muggle and wizarding world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is How We Heal

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to note that i see Jamie Campbell Bower as Draco, and Rami malek as Harry Potter. So their appearances are very much based on them.

As a child, Draco had fallen in love with everything. When his parents sent him to the library to read up on his studies, he always found the one book Lucius wouldn't want him to waste his time on. At age 8 he had found a muggle art history book and fallen in love with many of the renaissance painters he had seen works of. At the age of 9 he had found a painting technique book that was not muggle, but included examples of muggle techniques. He took them to his room and kept them hidden under his bed, tucked safely under the mattress. The year he turned 10 he had found many more muggle painting, and poetry books.He was unsure of how they had come to be in his parents library but he was not foolish enough to ask.

The year he left for Hogwart's he shrunk them and hid them at the bottom of his chest, under his robes. At night, and at dawn he would pull out a secret sketchbook he always hid, and sketch the ones he feared. Bellatrix and the shadow of Voldemort's back were in there more than a few times. It helped him get them out of his head. He imagined them being trapped in the pages of his sketchbook, never hurting anyone else. He spent his childhood years masking his dreams and becoming the son his father wanted. But at night, on the days he couldn't sleep he would mourn the person he could have been. As soon as the tears dried, the ice came back and his fathers disapproving glare flashed in his mind. And so he did what he was told to do. He grew to be the heir his father groomed and raised.

______________________________

 

His 8th year was not as much of a struggle as he thought it would be. Of course people despised him, but mostly they had forgotten about him. Blaise and Pansy's parents had sent them to Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons to their utter distaste. Narcissa was no longer living in the malfoy manor, but somewhere in France so she could 'center herself' she had said in her letters. He understood she needed time for herself, after being with Lucius so long.

Draco was not strong during his 8th year, he was left to deal with his family and his mistakes on his own. He wasn't good at dealing with so much extra time, so Draco sketched often in the library. He would ghost down to the kitchens, politely ask the elves for a mug of tea, to their surprise. With tea in one hand, sketchbook shrunk in his pocket so it wouldn't get stolen, he made his way to a dark corner of the library by a hidden window. It rained often that year, which he enjoyed immensely. He would practice drawing techniques and apply them to his own works. He was not aiming to become one of the greats, or to gain anything. He just wanted to draw and paint because he enjoyed it.

He spent so long not being allowed to fall in love with anything. He saw Harry Potter often around the castle, sitting outside below the window he sat by. For awhile he was merely something Draco saw in passing. The school was very quiet that year, trying to heal again. He liked the idea of healing, of becoming anew while remaining in the same body. The next night he had been thinking about how he could be a better person, for not only himself but the world around him.

He no longer saw muggles or 'mudbloods' as lesser. No, he had seen too many good people of that nature to think of them as lesser. He thought of how after Lucius had been sent to Azskaban, he did not feel anger or sadness. He had felt freed, and worked hard to let go of any kind of institutions he had been groomed to think were fact.

Draco felt powerful, and not the kind of powerful his father had felt under Voldemorts hand. The kind of powerful that came with paintbrushes and canvas, the kind of power that came from living on your own, of being yourself. It was such a regular night at Hogwarts, but he felt like he had taken that huge step he needed to let go of his past. Of course he wasn't completely healed, he had a lot more to do, but he felt the beginning of something blossom in his heart. He thought about Harry Potter a lot after that night. Wondered how he felt about all of this, did any of his relationships change? Did he feel like he deserved all the fame? Did he even like all that attention? Draco sure liked being alone.

He could feel that swirling of obsession in the back of his mind again, this time he didn't mind it. When Draco was a child he fell in love with anything that took his interest. And he was finally feeling that ability again. Harry Potter was becoming his obsession. He drew his profile in his sketchbook constantly, did watercolor pieces of Harry's face under the shade of a tree. Contrasted the beautiful brown of the boy's skin with the gentle lilac of the morning sky. Spent hours trying to make that shade of emerald in Harry's gaze.

Draco had grown his hair out, mainly so when he was bored he could twirl it around his fingers. It wasn't too long but hung just below his jawline. He liked the way he it curled a little towards the ends. Late at night he would paint the things he dreamed about and often ended up in class with specks of paint in his hair,no time in the mornings to wash it out. Charcoal smeared across his jaw. He began getting raised eyebrows and astonished looks from students and teachers as he came to class with acrylic splotched over his hands. They were almost aghast that Malfoy would let his appearance be disheveled.

Harry had looked over once and seen a bored Draco twirling his long fingers through his paint covered hair, and let out a small laugh. No one had really noticed but Draco looked over at him and gave a small smile and a nod, which Harry returned. They both knew petty schoolboy fights and differences were all but forgotten. They had both moved on so much it meant almost nothing. From then on, when they saw one another in the hall they would nod or smile.

And each time both boys would wonder how the other was doing, never taking that extra step. It was not their time to know one another on a personal level yet. They needed to heal themselves first, their time would come. Deep down, they both knew something amazing would come of their connection.

                            ____________________


End file.
